


for blue skies

by thumpawamba



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Also Jason and Trini Kinda Manage A Bar, Everybody Adores Their Brother Billy!, F/F, F/M, Jason/Trini Brotp, Kimberly/Zack Brotp, M/M, Past Jimberly, Post-Power Rangers (2017), trimberly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-10-14 17:18:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thumpawamba/pseuds/thumpawamba
Summary: “Jason, we’re two-fifths of an interplanetary crime-fighting squad taking advice from a virtualized alien head,” Trini grumbles. “I think my love life is a non-issue.”





	1. she forgot i hung the moon

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter's been edited somewhat so if you've already started give it a quick re-read? thanks so much for sticking it out with me guys, chapter 2 will be posted soon!

**_now._ **

 

One or two men benched on bar stools, a booth filled here—and, yeah, just there. Noon brings with it a steady trickle of patrons, the drizzle before the downpour. The tiny fishing hamlet can’t exactly be called a tourist trap but when the would-be passersthrough come to Angel Grove, they’re like mosquitos on flypaper—just as stuck as the locals. 

 

With a less of a hankering for greener pastures.

 

Jason Scott knows that his hometown is as good as it gets. Stefan’s pub, a sanctuary. And, it’s a bit clichéd: washed-up, small town football star finding his salvation at the bottom of a whiskey glass. But, for Jason, the glass was never meant to hold much of spirits and the like. It’s only purpose is to shine, a testament to his hard work. His leadership.

 

“Hey, dipshit,” says a voice behind him. “Can you cool it with the country music?”

 

Jason’s shoulders slump, but he can’t hold a fond smile at bay as he turns away from the back bar. If he studies Trini closely, he might see her eye twitch right as George Strait begins to croon about wearing his welcome thin. She’s a crotchety little thing and Jason has never quite learned how to tiptoe around her, knows she’d never appreciate it anyway.

 

He shrugs. “S’Billy’s—”

 

“Billy’s favorite, I know.” A smile tugs at the edges of her lips. “Except Billy left forty minutes ago, and you’re killing the mood for Frat Boy and his girlfriend over there.”

 

He shoots a glance at the back corner booth where a guy in a long-sleeved polo and a backwards baseball cap sits, playing idly with his lunchmate’s fingers. The girl, Jason notices, looks as if she’d rather be anywhere else.

 

He breathes out heavily and looks back to Trini. “What are you feeling?”

 

“Oh, I’d definitely go Slipknot but you know Stefan,” she says with a shrug. Jason nods ruefully. 

 

“Yeah, let’s not scare off the patrons.”

 

Trini sets her elbows on top of the bar. “God,” she starts. Why do people keep coming back here?”

 

She knows why, and Jason knows why. And Jason knows that she knows that he knows that she knows why, but he answers all the same. “Angel Grove’s the new Roswell.” 

 

Trini’s eye-roll is magnificent. He can guess what she’s thinking (if they were still who they used to be, he’d know for sure). But he doesn’t dare say it out right.

 

“Not a believer?” He ventures instead. Trini scowls, doesn’t take the bait. She straightens and runs a hand threw artfully shorn hair.

 

Last week, she’d come into work all tense shoulders and clipped mane, silently daring anyone to say a word. Jason suspected the transformation was meant to make her look tougher. Less Chicken Little, more  _ don’t fuck with me...and don’t forget to tip your server, asshole _ . She couldn’t get rid of the slight baby-roundness to her cheeks, however, and Jason had wondered if there was such a phrase as ‘frighteningly adorable.’

 

He’d thought it best not to ask.

 

“How’s the knee?” Trini asks now; it’s his turn to lock up. She doesn’t mean anything by it, of course, but the fact that she's noticed at all isn’t doing wonders for his waning confidence. She sends him a grimace that’s probably meant to come across as sympathetic and offers, “I went for a run last night...got winded after a mile.”

 

They’ve been happening more often, these moments of weakness. Displays of humanity that shouldn’t be off-putting, yet could be nothing but when one had gotten used to being superhuman for so long. It was a few months earlier that they’d started noticing the signs. Billy, fooling around with explosives at the mine (again), had given himself a concussion that lasted three days. Zack’s arm took two weeks to heal after he’d broken it (allegedly) doing parkour, and it’s extraordinary, really, that kind of recovery time.

 

But if there’s one thing they all know by now, it’s that terms like ‘extraordinary’ are relative. 

 

“It’s nothing,” mumbles Jason. He picks up the clipboard that he’d abandoned during inventory and makes for his office, Trini right on his tail.

 

“Have you been back to the ship?” Her voice is hushed, the words coming out of her mouth in a swift stream.

 

“Have  _ you _ ?” he counters. He walks through the office door and hears it shut behind him. The place is a mess, his desk overflowing with schedule-stuffed binders and contracts, calculators and pens. Photographs pasted beneath a glass surface: Stefan with an arm slung around Jason’s broad shoulders, Pearl and his mom; Trini and Zack on New Year’s Eve, their faces wet with champagne, Billy and Jason donning baby blue robes and cheesy grins. 

 

Kimberly clinging to Jason’s back, head thrown back in careless laughter.

 

Jason looks up to find Trini’s gaze pinned to the last picture. Her eyes flick back up at him as if sensing his stare and he’s struck with the sudden urge to apologize, which—isn’t that so messed up, after everything? 

 

“It’s been a minute,” she murmurs. 

 

_ Little more than a minute _ , Jason thinks.

 

“No one’s gone down there,” she continues; the surety with which she says it makes his brow quirk.

 

“How’s she doing?” Trini flushes.

 

“I’m not her keeper, Jason.” She shoots back. “You’re free to find out for yourself.” And it’s true, no one’s got Kimberly under lock and key—least of all Trini. She’d know, though, better than anyone else except Zack maybe, how Kim’s really doing. Not for the first time, Jason wonders who exactly they think they’re fooling and scolds himself in the next breath; they don’t answer to him anymore. 

 

Not any of them.

 

Besides, he’s gotta take his hat off to Trini. She’s veered into a subject Jason is even less eager to discuss than their crumbling hero status, but he’s getting tired of beating around the bush. 

 

“Four and a half years, Trini.” He states softly. “This is the natural progression.”

 

**_then._ **

 

_ “We’re  _ so _ getting you laid, girl.” Kim says matter-of-factly. _

 

_ And the last time Trini’s  ears had burned this bad was when she’d scratched an itch after chopping chile de árbol and guajillo—before washing her hands. She wonders if she’ll combust this time, feeling heat spread across her cheeks like wildfire. They’re sitting on her bed, she and Kimberly, criss-cross applesauce and facing one another. Or Kim’s facing  _ her _. Trini doesn’t think she’ll ever look up into the other girl’s face again. _

 

_ “Jesus, Kimberly.” She feels soft fingertips pressing on her wrists and, Christ, that’s really not as comforting as Kim probably thinks. _

 

_ “Don’t be embarrassed,” she laughs. “You know we’re all totally cool with the whole gay thing.” _

 

_ “Dope,” Trini says dryly. “Wasn’t sure how I was gonna sleep tonight without knowing that.”  _

 

_ There’s a playful little pinch against the skin of her palm as Kim continues on, “So what’s your type?” _

 

_ And— _

 

Straight girls,  _ Trini thinks. Because apparently she’s become  _ That Girl™.  _ She almost says it too, if only to see the expression on Kim’s face. When she finally looks back up at her, Trini sees genuine curiosity there...and something else. There’s a desperate kind of realness behind her eyes, a need to be let in, to be trusted again. But whatever it is she’s hoping for, Trini’s not sure she can deliver. _

 

_ “Isn’t the whole idea of having a type kind of gross?” She stumbles over the words. “Like, at what point does erotic fixation become fetishism?” _

 

_ Kimberly gives her a funny look. “Okay, you’re thinking about this too hard,” she says. “What about qualities? Character traits?” _

 

_ “I don’t know...funny? Trini shakes her head. “Real, I guess. No bullshit.” _

 

_ “Well, you’re in the wrong place for that.” Something passes between them, silent and warming. A camaraderie among outcasts, things forgotten. Except, no—that’s not right is it? Because no one could forget Kimberly Hart. Her displacement is entirely different in nature than Trini’s. Infamy, not irrelevance.  _

 

_ As Kim’s smirk dissipates, Trini is forcibly reminded that she doesn’t know this girl. Not really. How close together can shared alien chemistry and brushes with death push two people? Five? It’s too weird to think that the only thing Trini knows about Kim is that she’d die for her. For them all. Trini knows it like she knows her father ’s voice. _

 

_ They are part of each other; more than friends, they’re a family. _

 

_ She clears her throat, stops that train of thought in its tracks. “What about you, Kimberly Hart? You have a type?”  _

 

_ Half-smiling, Kim lifts her chin. “Me, I...I like them loyal,” she settles on, definitive. Jason jumps to Trini’s thoughts immediately, complete with puppy-dog eyes and a shiny red collar. She hates herself for it, just a little. _

 

_“Important,” she hums. “What about Jason?”_ God _, she hates_ _herself._

 

_ Kimberly’s gaze drops to her lap. She doesn’t refute it, though, so naturally, Trini digs herself in deeper.  _

 

_ “Are you gonna throw him a bone or what?” She asks, inwardly cringing at her own choice of words.  _

 

_ A smile plays at Kim’s lips as she contemplates something. She meets Trini’s eyes again. “I should jump on that, huh?”  _ __

 

_ In the moment, Trini thinks she’ll always remember this, how Kim’s voice shakes a little. Like she’s putting a mortgage down on a house. An entire life. _

 

_ It’s a big step. _

 

_ “Where are you gonna find better, right?” It might be the best step. _

  
  
  


 


	2. we aiming for the stars with a point and hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yes, I know, it's been forever, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! a Lot has happened. I graduated, I'm on the job-hunt etc. but here's another (short) chapter. and hopefully, they'll get progressively longer as the story unfolds, but in the meantime please share your comments. every little bit helps and I'll also love you forever nbd :)

**_now._ **

 

Kimberly awakens to the jangling of keys, the faint knock of a deadbolt. Blinking blearily, she takes a second to get her bearings. She fell asleep on the couch. Trini’s couch. She rolls over and scrubs a hand over her face, feeling the unmistakable imprint of a throw pillow embedded into to her skin. 

 

_ Real sexy, Kim _ . She thinks to herself, hyper-aware of the room’s sudden silence. Trini stands stock-still in the entryway, hair sticking up on all sides. Kim knows she’s been running her hands through it again, still unused to the novelty of it...the nakedness. It’s adorable.

 

_ She’s _ adorable.

 

“What are you doing here?” Trini asks. As of in answer, Kimberly’s pocket buzzes loudly. She rights herself and digs a hand into the back of her jeans. There’s a series of text messages on the home screen; Kim opens the topmost thread.

 

**Zack BAElor** : how’d it go? she kick u out?

 

**Zack BAElor** : did she cry?? 

 

**Zack BAElor** : pics or it didn’t happen

 

**Zack BAElor** : i can’t believe you’re leaving me hanging like this. Im changing my emergency contact to Billy

 

_ For fuck’s sake _ , she thinks with a glance back at Trini. As if she isn’t nervous enough as it is. Kim’s gearing up to respond when Trini lets out an embattled sigh. 

 

“Look, Kimberly.” She sounds exhausted. “I’m really not in the mood tonight, okay?”

 

It stings a bit, the implication. It’s far from foundationless, though, because lately they only ever meet up for one purpose, which...is fine; that is, Kim can  _ totally _ deal, it’s just—

 

She  _ can’t  _ deal.

 

She can’t deal with late-night meetups once or twice a week, can’t handle the empty chatter that passes between them before they give up the pretense of conversation completely. She can’t deal with not knowing what’s going on inside her best friend’s head. She  _ can’t _ .

 

“I can’t…” Kim flounders. “I...I just wanted to talk.”

 

“So, what? You decide to break into my place?” Trini drags a hand through her hair, head tilting back in disbelief. “At three o'clock in the morning?”

 

“Well, that potted plant with the spare key hidden inside doesn’t exactly scream ‘do not enter’ but…” She trails of at the look she gets in response. “Right, I’m sorry, that sucked, I—never again.”

 

It’s clear that Trini has her doubts about that, but she stays silent. Kim takes this as encouragement. 

 

“I, uh, I got here at eleven actually.” She tries to keep the note of inquiry out of her voice. “ I thought you’d be off at midnight, you know, like always.”

 

_ Fuck _ , she hears it.  _ It’s— _ fuck.

 

Trini seems to be weighing her words. After a moment or two she offers, “Kat needed me to cover her shift.”

 

Kim’s stomach sours. She hears the shaky  _ oh  _ leave her lips. And it’s not like she has a right to the resentfulness that fills her chest at the explanation.

 

It’s not like she has a right to an explanation at all. It’s just that the words _needed me_ preceded by _Kat_ , in any form or context, activates some sort of self-destruct mechanism deep inside her.

 

“Kim, it’s—”

 

“Yeah, it’s none of my business anyway.”

 

Trini softens. “I was gonna say it’s  _ late _ ; what did you want to talk about?” 

 

Throat dry, Kimberly shakes her head and blinks rapidly. “You know, it wasn’t really that important.” They both know it’s a lie and, ironic as it is, Kim is glad that there are  _ some _ still-functioning lines of communication between them. 

 

All the ones that don’t need words.

 

Trini crosses the room, kneeling in front of Kimberly when she reaches the couch. She takes her hand and laces their fingers, studies the vulnerability that must be plain on Kimberly’s face. 

 

“It’s late,” she says again. “Let’s...just sleep, yeah?”

 

Kim leans in so that their foreheads touch, noses brushing as she angles down and when she nods, she feels Trini echo the movement.

 

**_then._ **

 

_ Nudging them together was necessary, a preventative measure. Trini’s already given up enough of herself to these strangers. Nipping this little crush in the bud might allow her to hold on to a shred of dignity; besides, Kimberly and Jason are...adorable together. There’s just no other word for it. _

 

_ It’s how Jason plops himself down in the rocky mountain dirt just to sit between Kim’s legs during campfires; it’s the way Kimberly cards her fingers through his hair, intermittently sprinkling dust onto the top of Jason’s head until he starts to look a little like Trini’s great uncle Ignacio. It’s the way Jason sits and takes it all with brooding indulgence, never giving back as good as he gets. And it’s the way Kimberly smiles down at him with heart-stopping tenderness sometimes, how Jason stares back up at her as if witnessing a living miracle.  _

 

_ They’re fucking adorable.  _

 

_ And here’s the kicker—literally nothing else changes. Chalk it up to inexperience but Trini had always thought teenage romances were fashioned from a kind of unparalleled closeness between partners, rose-tinted laser focus or some shit like that. Only Kim and Jason are just as overly involved with the rest of them as ever.  _

 

_ They’re all crowding around a table for four at Krispy Kreme; Trini feels momentarily trapped in some weird game of musical chairs as everyone scrabbles for seats. But she moves too slowly, ends up the odd one out—which  _ surprise _ ,  _ surprise _. Just as she’s about to grab a chair from another table, someone grabs her wrist. And before Trini can even form a protest, she’s being pulled unceremoniously onto Kimberly Hart’s lap.  _

 

_ Trini shoots Jason an alarmed glance on instinct. Jason doesn’t blink. He’s not even looking at either of them.  _

 

_ “We get it, you’re a badass,” He’s got Zack pinned with a stare that’s half annoyance, half practiced-boredom. “Can’t you sit like a normal person?” _

__

_ “No can do, bossman.” Zack grins crookedly, chin resting awkwardly on the top rail of his chair.  _

 

_ “Guys,” Billy interjects. “Are we just gonna sit here or…? I mean, I’m cool with it—well, actually, no I’m kind of uncomfortable sitting here without buying anything. That just seems a little rude and—” _

 

_ “Hey, Billy.” Jason cuts in softly. “We’re gonna order something.” He shoots the other boy a reassuring smile and grabs at a napkin, wiping up a splash of leftover coffee on their table. _

 

_ Kimberly perks up. “I’ve got it,” she says. She drums lightly at Trini’s hip, which Trini takes as a sign to get up. When she does, Kim all but manhandles her back into the now vacated seat and— _

 

_ “Cinnamon sugar and a hot chocolate?” she asks. Trini nods dumbly.  _

 

_ As Kim turns to take Billy’s order and Zack blows a taunting kiss at Jason, Trini concludes that she’s just as ignorant about the inner workings of platonic relationships as she is about the romantic ones. Go figure. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> so...this is just me putting feelers out into the pr fandom. i adore these kids. anyone else still out there who does? shout me out @thumpawamba on tumblr!


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